Gluhen Continued
by omasuoniwabanshi
Summary: Hate the way WK Gluhen ended? Then this story is for you. Alternate ending.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any Weiss Kruez characters.

**Author's Note: **Did you positively hate the way the Weiss Kruez Gluhen ended? Then this story is for you. Here's my take on how the dang thing SHOULD have ended

**Warning: **Obviously, there will be spoilers for the Gluhen mini-series since this starts where it ends. Some spoilers for the original TV series as well.

CHAPTER ONE

Aya crouched by the mailbox on an anonymous street in New York, the knife the street urchin had thrust into him still in his gut. Through his gloves, he felt his blood pooling around the hilt. His long coat covered the wound somewhat, and besides, the people walking home on the busy street didn't notice anything wrong. The snow fell all around, making them anxious to hurry home. No one had time to bother with a man sitting by a mailbox.

How ironic that a child should be the one to kill him. He guessed the criminal who supplied Butler with homeless people was angry now that Aya had killed the bastard. Butler and his pet researcher from the pharmaceutical company had been conducting human trials on bums kidnapped from off the streets. He'd slaughtered nearly a hundred innocent victims, all in the name of the 'greater good'. Aya saw darkness all around and despaired. Would human beings never learn? Must there be such evil in the world? He'd fought against the beasts of the night for so long, and now he was getting tired.

His breathing grew shallow. It was getting colder, and darker. The last thing he remembered was pink, the tips of a pair of pink rain boots. Someone must want to mail a letter, and there he was in the way. He opened his mouth to apologize, and his hand fell away from his wound. His voice failed him, and everything went dark.

o-o-o

Asuka set down the hotel phone with a soft click, a slight frown of disappointment furrowing the skin between her eyes.

"What is it?" the man called Takeo asked, coming out of the bathroom while rubbing his damp hair with a towel. Takeo Ito wasn't his real name. He didn't remember his name. He'd taken on Asuka's last name when he married her, and she'd chosen the name Takeo for him. His past was still a complete blank from the time he'd woke up in the hospital a year ago. He found out new things about himself all the time, like the fact that he spoke flawless English.

They'd found that out at the airport when the customs agent asked him if he and his wife were in America for business or pleasure, and he'd answered without hesitation that they were there for a business conference then were staying on an extra week so his wife could visit an old college roommate. Asuka had stared, wide-eyed, and that was when Takeo realized that he'd not only understood the man's question, but also answered it in English.

Asuka had laughed it off in the taxi on the way to the hotel and told him that if she'd known he spoke English, she'd have practiced her English on him weeks ago. Takeo smiled back, but it was just another reminder that there was a missing piece of Takeo's life that would probably never be found. He'd accepted that, and Asuka's advice to live in the moment. For the most part he was happy. He didn't worry about his past, but he did worry whenever anything threatened Asuka's happiness.

"That was Hitomi," said Asuka, turning away from the phone. "She can't meet us for dinner. She was called in to the hospital."

"I thought she wasn't on call tonight."

"She wasn't supposed to be. She said the two other doctors who were on call for emergencies were stuck across town because of some traffic pileup. I guess there are a lot of accidents the first snow of the year."

Takeo walked over and put his arms around Asuka. "I'm sorry, darling. I know you wanted to see her tonight."

Asuka giggled. "You're still wet," she told him, snuggling against his chest. She laid her cheek against him and sighed. "It's the last day of your business meetings, and I really wanted her to meet you. She was my best friend in college, and I want you to like each other."

Takeo touched his wife's hair lightly where it lay over her shoulders. She hadn't put it up in her usual ponytail yet, and he loved running his fingers through her hair. "Why don't we go to the hospital and meet her for coffee?"

Asuka reared back a little to look up in his face. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all." He smiled down at her. Making Asuka happy was his first priority.

She grinned. "Let's do it. We might have to wait a while if she's in surgery…"

"Don't worry about it. I'll bring my Wall Street Journal to read."

Asuka wrinkled her nose. "That boring old thing? I'm bringing my manga."

Unable to resist, Takeo kissed the tip of her perfect nose. "You know what they say, when in Rome…"

o-o-o

Takeo supposed that hospitals all over the world looked and smelled roughly the same, but the hospital where Asuka's friend Hitomi worked seemed busier, more bustling. It reminded him of New York itself, brash, busy, and self-important.

It didn't help that the main entrance was packed with ambulances dislodging victims of the multi-car pileup. It was a zoo. He and Asuka fought their way to the information desk and left a message for Hitomi. The busy nurse behind the formica counter directed them to a waiting room upstairs on the surgical floor where Hitomi was working, and told them to wait for her there.

The waiting room was only a little quieter as families sat in tense groups and waited for news of their loved ones. Hitomi, a smooth faced Japanese woman with short, layered hair, dressed in green scrubs, came into the waiting room thirty minutes later.

"Hitomi!" Asuka dropped her manga and came forward at a run. Takeo picked it up and followed after her.

"Asuka!" The reserved expression dropped from the woman's face and she smiled broadly, hugging Asuka back cheerfully. "It's good to see you! I'm so sorry about dinner. I may actually get to leave soon. Dr. Spencer called and it looks like he's coming in after all." She pulled back from Asuka and looked over at Takeo. "And who is this?"

Blushing at her gaffe, Asuka put her hand on Takeo's arm. "This is my husband, Takeo."

Takeo shook Hitomi's hand, smiling. He'd never seen Asuka so girlish before. It gave him a sense of what she'd been like as a young, giggly college student, before she learned the professional but friendly reserve needed in nursing. He could tell that they wanted to chat, so he excused himself to go use the bathroom down the hall, dodging stretchers being pushed to and fro down the long expanse of linoleum.

Coming out of the bathroom, he nearly walked into a girl arguing with an orderly.

"But why can't I see him? You said he was out of surgery."

She was a young, pale blonde with hair so fair that it looked white. Even her eyebrows were blonde, and he suspected that if the faint traces of mascara were washed off, her eyelashes would be blonde as well. The moisture beginning to pool in her eyes was reflected in her voice as she went on tearfully.

"I can't go home until I'm sure he's alright."

Exasperated, the brown haired orderly threw up his hands. "I don't know what else to tell you lady, with all the accident victims coming in and out of surgery, we'll probably have to wheel him out of the recovery room and leave him in the hall to make room for more. Maybe you can see him then." He snorted in disgust and walked away muttering.

The girl turned to go after him, just as Takeo moved out of the way of a stretcher being rushed to a surgical room. This had to be the busiest hallway in the hospital, judging by the amount of stretchers and staff members making their way back and forth down it. Not noticing Takeo's sudden dodge, the girl wheeled around and ran right into him, bouncing off his chest with a surprised 'Uff.'

"Are you alright?" Takeo asked, bending over her.

She'd landed with her back against the wall in a slump, and straightened her knees so that she was standing upright.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she stated, then her eyes teared up again. "No, I'm not fine. I found this man on the street bleeding to death. I called an ambulance and I've been waiting here to find out how he's doing, but no one will tell me anything because I'm not family, and they won't let me see him."

"That does sound frustrating." Takeo commiserated. "Do you know the man well?"

"No, at least, I don't think that I do."

Takeo cocked his head and looked at her quizzically.

She blinked to rid her pale blue eyes of any remaining tears. Talking seemed to have calmed her down a little.

"I teach kindergarten at a small Catholic day care center," she explained. "I try to get to services as often as I can after work, and I'm pretty sure I've seen that man there. It's the only reason I went over to him when I saw him sitting on the sidewalk."

She grimaced. "Oh dear, that makes me sound really horrible, doesn't it? Like I only help people that I know." She sighed dispiritedly. "You just have to be so careful these days."

"Yes, it's a dangerous world out there," Takeo agreed. Somehow, he knew it was true, though he didn't know how he knew. Mentally shrugging it off, he gave the girl another encouraging grin. "Which recovery room is the man in?"

Her shoulders slumped. "That's just it. I don't know, and no one will tell me. I can't just go barging into all the recovery rooms looking for him. Though he wouldn't be that tough to find. He has red hair."

Red hair.

A memory, a fragment of a man with a long red braid, and a flash of metal, then it was gone.

Takeo blinked. The doctors told him this would happen, that he'd get flashes sometimes of old memories, but they'd held out no hope that his complete memories would ever come back. Pushing it to the back of his mind, Takeo opened his mouth to say something reassuring, then stopped.

There down the hallway, two doors down, a stretcher was being pulled out of a room as another with a shower capped patient on it waited to be pushed in. The man on the stretcher coming out of the room had red hair. Takeo could only see the top of his head, which was rolling slightly from side to side, as though the man was waking up.

Letting a smile cross his face, Takeo pointed a finger over the girl's shoulder. Her face bunched up in a puzzled frown, but she turned obediently to look at where he was pointing.

The hallway was still bustling with activity, but this time it worked to their advantage. A large black orderly came rushing up to the man pushing the redhead's stretcher. He grabbed his shoulder and said something to him, then they both went hurrying down the hallway, leaving the stretcher next to the wall.

"Looks like now's your chance." Takeo said.

"Oh." The little blonde whirled back to face him and put her hands to her mouth distractedly. "Now that I can talk to him, I don't know what to say."

Takeo smiled down at her. She really was quite pretty in her own way, but he was married now, and Asuka was all that mattered. "I'm sure you'll think of something," he told her, and taking her by the shoulders, he turned her back to face the hallway, and gave her a gentle shove in the right direction.

She nodded, squared her shoulders, and began walking down the hall, stopping by the side of the stretcher. Takeo hung back to watch for a minute. He couldn't see the redhead's face, but he saw the man's hand flop against the stretcher's railing, and saw the blonde girl reach out hesitantly, and take it. Her face softened into a tiny smile.

Feeling the warm glow of satisfaction that comes from a job well done, Takeo set off down the hall, sparing a quick glance at the couple as he walked by. He caught a brief glimpse of the redhead's face, and thought he saw the expression in his dark blue eyes sharpen as he walked by the man.

The blonde's voice murmured something softly, but Takeo wasn't listening. Instead, he was plotting how to wend his way around the hallway traffic coming at him. One stretcher, two orderlies, a nurse, and a civilian, probably a visitor, in a long black coat and unkempt black hair. There was something about the way the black-coated man was walking that pricked at the back of Takeo's mind.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he could feel himself tensing, but why? Just because the man was walking with his hand jammed down his pocket didn't mean…

"Yohji!"

Of all the conversations, yells, and whispers going on in the busy hall, why did that one hoarse shout of warning ring so loud in Takeo's ear?

He had only a bare second to wonder about it when he saw the man pulling a dark, metallic gun from out of his coat pocket, and then he reacted.

He was only two steps away from the man, and he covered the distance in one, curling his left hand into a fist, and driving it up into the man's solar plexus as he grabbed his opponent's trench coated shoulder with his right hand, positioning him for the blow.

The man gave a wheeze and crumpled, dropping the gun back into his pocket as he fell.

Takeo shoved him against a laundry cart someone had left standing by the wall, and let go of his trench coat to let the now-unconscious man slump over behind it.

It only took a second or two. Takeo kept expecting one of the orderlies or the nurse coming down the hallway to react, but they walked by without noticing a thing, leaving him standing there staring at his fist bemusedly.

"Yohji!"

There was that voice again.

He knew before he turned to look, that it was the redhead. There he was, struggling to sit up, the blonde girl trying to support him by wrapping her arms around his back and shoulders.

Those dark, icy blue eyes seemed to be trying to focus past the post-surgical haze of drugs he'd been given. They seemed to bore into his own eyes.

"Yohji. It isn't safe. We've got to get out of here."

"Who are you?" Takeo asked, but that wasn't the real question roiling around in his mind. What he really wanted to know was why the man called him Yohji.

"I'm Aya," answered the redhead.

Yes. That felt right somehow. The name fit him. And what was that other name? The one Aya had called out?

Yohji.

His real name must be Yohji.

Looking into the redheaded man's eyes, Takeo felt the careful little world he'd built for himself start to crumble. A piece of information from the past popped into his mind. He was Yohji. And he was Weiss.

To be continued…

PLEASE review and let me know what you think of it so far.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz.

**A/N:** Apologies for the spelling error! I've gone back and tried to switch "Atsuka" to "Asuka" in chapter one. I knew I should've watched the English dubbed version of Gluhen with the subtitles ON and not off. (I could have sworn there was a 't' sound in her name, but I guess not) Apologies too for any errors in this chapter – I somehow deleted the original version and had to retype it, and I wanted to get it posted this weekend so Heta Noitio wouldn't be disappointed (those chibi eyes work every time).

CHAPTER TWO

"I still can't believe I'm doing this. You should really be in the hospital," the blonde girl said from the driver's seat.

She'd told them her name was Gretchen Anderson, and she'd volunteered to drive Aya to her apartment to hide out, after Aya had vetoed her suggestion that they go to the police, saying that it was 'too dangerous'.

"I'll be fine," Aya grated out unconvincingly.

Takeo – no – 'Yohji' sat next to him in the back seat, tensed to catch Aya if he should lose consciousness. Aya's head lolled against the car's backrest, his eyes closed. The hospital was so busy that incredibly no one had noticed them walking Aya to the car. Aya was wearing his own pants and Yohji's jacket, which replaced the shirt and coat the hospital staff cut off him.

The hospital. Asuka.

"I have to call my wife." Yohji got out his cell phone, then froze as Aya's hand reached out and grabbed it.

"What will you say to her?" Aya asked.

Yohji hesitated. "I don't know, but I have to tell her something or she'll worry."

A glimmer of something, envy perhaps, glinted in Aya's eyes before he closed them and released his grip on the cell phone.

Yohji dialed and connected, unable to help the relieved smile that crossed his lips at the sound of Asuka's voice.

"Mushi mushi," she said, the commonplace Japanese phone greeting sounding reassuringly normal to Yohji's ear.

"Asuka, it's Takeo."

"Where are you? Hitomi was released from her duty. We can go to dinner now if you don't mind somewhere casual. Where are you? You've been gone fifteen minutes."

Fifteen minutes? Was that really only as long as it had been? Choosing his words carefully, Yohji replied. "Asuka, something's come up. I want you to go to dinner with Hitomi and I'll just meet you back at the hotel room, OK?"

"Something's come up?" Asuka's voice sounded worried. "Is it your work?"

Now was the moment of truth. Did he lie to his wife and let her think that nothing had changed for him? She'd always told him he should live in the moment and not worry about his past, but neither he nor she had ever thought his past might jump out of nowhere and drag him back in.

Yohji took a deep breath. "No. It's not my work. I met someone who might be able to tell me about my past."

There was a silence, and Yohji wished desperately that he could see Asuka's face, see what expression crossed her features.

"What?" The word was a mere breath. She sounded stunned. He didn't blame her.

Yohji could feel Aya's gaze on him, evaluating, calculating. He ignored it and stared at the back of Gretchen's head.

"I'll tell you about it later, if it turns out that he can tell me anything important." Yohji lowered his voice. "He recognized me, Asuka. I didn't go looking for him."

It was important for him to tell her that his life with her was everything, that his past could go hang for all he cared. He wasn't discontent with her or with their life together. Living with her made him realize that there was nothing more that he needed than their apartment, his job, and knowing that she was there every night to come home to. She had to know that, but he couldn't come right out and say it the way he wanted, not with Aya and Gretchen listening in.

"I know that. I trust you. I'll see you back at the hotel," Asuka said simply. With relief, Yohji heard the calm certainty in her voice. She understood what he'd tried so obliquely to say. She was like that, always seeming to know what he needed to hear.

"Goodbye, Asuka."

"Goodbye. I love you."

Yohji shut the cell phone's cover to disconnect the call and left it in his hand, the faint heat of it warming his palm. He gripped it gently for a second, then stuck it back in his pocket.

o-o-o

Aya was quiet the rest of the way to Gretchen's apartment. He hissed involuntarily when he got out of the car though, and then had to walk half a block to her building. Gretchen and Yohji supported him on either side, and he was appalled to discover how much he needed their help. His legs felt like wet udon noodles, and the numbness around the wound in his side was beginning to wear off.

After the second flight of stairs, he was ready to drop. By the third, Gretchen and Yohji were more dragging him up the stairs than supporting his steps. Finally they made it to her door. Gretchen dropped her purse on the ground and was nearly crying with frustration before she found her door key and let them in.

The place was small, one rectangular room with bathroom and closet doors off to the side. A queen sized antique wrought iron bed, painted white stood against the right wall. A sofa facing a bookcase with a small TV on top was along the left, and the back of the room was a kitchenette with a small round table and two chairs.

Aya let them drag him over to the bed, where he sank back, feeling dampness and a trickle down his side as he did so. It didn't come as a surprise when Gretchen gasped and said, "Aya! You're bleeding!"

He winced. How had she learned his…? Oh yeah. Yohji had asked his name in the hospital, and Aya gave it unthinkingly. Whatever drugs he'd been given at the hospital slowed his thought processes, but not to the point where he'd forgotten Yohji's amnesia.

Aya and Omi both made the decision to leave Yohji alone in the hospital to recover after their last battle with Esset, hoping for his sake that the doctors were right and his memories would never return. There was always a risk one of their old enemies would run into Yohji one day, but remembering the guilt-ridden anguish in their friend's eyes the night he almost betrayed them to Esset, they decided it was worth the risk. The man deserved some peace after what he'd been through.

Yohji's guilt had nearly eaten him alive. Having to kill your lovers would do that to a man. Esset offered to erase those memories, and before he'd come to his senses, Yohji had been tempted to join them. Aya cursed himself for not realizing at the time how badly his friend was suffering.

Now everything Aya and Omi had done to protect Yohji was ruined. When Aya saw the gunman coming down the hall, his drug befuddled brain registered the threat, but seeing Yohji there so unexpectedly, he'd thought the gunman had come for Yohji. He'd called out Yohji's name to warn him before remembering that Yohji wasn't part of Weiss anymore.

He'd have to deal with the fallout from that later. For now, getting the bleeding to stop was a priority.

"It'll be fine," he told Gretchen, noticing her shocked pale face staring at his side, where blood was drenching Yohji's jacket. She looked like she was about to faint. "I just need…"

"You need a doctor," Yohji broke in roughly, opening his cell phone. "And I happen to know one."

Aya tried to sit up. "No, it's too dangerous."

Yohji stared back coldly. "You keep saying that, but you never explain why."

"I shouldn't have to." Aya said sharply, the pain making him impatient.

"Aya…" came Gretchen's voice, distressed at the rising tension between the two.

He glanced over at the girl, missing his chance to knock the phone out of Yohji's hand. Assuming he still had the strength to do something like that. Aya hated feeling weak. He leaned back against the pillows, and saw that Gretchen was still wearing the pink rain boots she'd had on when she found him bleeding in the street.

He recognized her when he woke up in the hospital and saw her standing in the hallway next to his gurney. She went to Sister Mary's church. He'd seen her in the congregation when he'd slip in sometimes at the tail end of the sermon to drop off money for the orphans. When he saw her in the hospital, he realized she must have been the one to bring him there.

Yohji was talking into the phone again.

"Asuka? Could you and Hitomi come to this address? I need you." Yohji gave the directions crisply and efficiently, describing the street, building number and apartment precisely. He may have amnesia, but his powers of observation and memory were just as sharp as when he'd been in Weiss.

"Someone's been hurt and they're refusing to go to the hospital. Yes. Right. See you soon."

Yohji closed the phone and stared at Aya. "We need to talk."

Aya nodded wearily. He owed him the truth, if he wanted it.

"I never could refuse you," he said, his mouth quirking up into an ironic half-smile as he remembered giving in to Yohji's demand outside of Esset Headquarters that they fight each other to the death if necessary.

Yohji stared back intently, seeming to sense that there was a memory behind Aya's words.

The girl, Gretchen, walked past them to the door and fumbled for the doorknob, discomfort and embarrassment in her every move.

"I…um, I'll just leave the two of you alone. You obviously have, er, issues, and I need to go shopping for…soup! That's it, I'll need chicken soup if Aya is going to stay here." Her hands shot up to her mouth and she mumbled around her fingers, "I mean, if he wants to stay. If he wants to live with you, I mean, if you're living together…er…"

Yohji broke off staring at Aya and looked over at her blankly.

Aya sighed. Gretchen had picked up on the strong emotions in the room, but she'd leapt to the wrong conclusion. "We're not gay lovers, we used to work together is all. We were friends."

A look of relief passed over the girl's face as she lowered her hands. "Oh thank God," she sighed, then blushed. Aya's eyes widened slightly in surprise. The blush seemed to be traveling over her whole body, face, neck, and even the wrists under her coat's cuffs seemed to be going red. It was…intriguing.

"I'll just be going then," she squeaked, and ran out the door, closing it firmly behind her.

"Were we?" Yohji asked, still standing over by the sofa, as if he couldn't bear to come any closer to Aya. Aya didn't blame him. Yohji must be reeling at the thought of finding someone from his past who had a gunman after him, but Aya was still too doped up and beginning to feel pain to bother sugarcoating anything.

"Were we what?" he asked, evenly.

"Friends. Were we friends?"

Aya sighed and looked away. Friends, comrades in arms, brothers in arms, enemies for one instant, they'd been all that one time or another.

"Yes," he answered firmly. "We were friends." He glanced at Yohji to see how he was taking it.

The fair-haired man nodded slowly, and frowned introspectively. "And we worked together." It was a statement rather than a question, but there was a trace of dread in Yohji's voice. "Worked together doing what?"

"We were members of a group called Weiss Kreuz, the Knight Hunters. We took down criminals the law couldn't touch."

"Took down," Yohji repeated wonderingly. "You mean…"

"Yes. We killed them." Aya stared at his former colleague, and saw the denial, then acceptance in his eyes as Yohji raised his hands and stared at the palms as if looking for bloodstains.

"I…killed." He stared at his hands some more, then raised his eyes. "Why don't I remember?"

Aya's thoughts went back to that night, the night they learned Esset was ruled, not by a woman as they'd thought, but by a supercomputer called Epitaph. An affiliate of Weiss, the Crusher Group, set bombs along the building, forcing the computer to shut down and allowing Omi to slip in a virus that destroyed it once and for all. Esset's heart was ripped out, but the bombs did their job all too well.

"You were caught in an explosion. Half the building fell on you. We got you to the hospital, but the doctors said you'd never regain your memory. You wanted to get out of the business anyway, so we left you alone."

Strong emotion creased Yohji's face as his brow furrowed. "Yes," he said slowly. "It's hazy but…I dream sometimes that I'm talking to a woman. She says she can take the pain away." He frowned. "I killed her, didn't I?"

"You killed a lot of people." Aya told him. "As did I."

"I remember…bits and pieces sometimes. Faces. Blood. But I don't remember what I did or what I said. I see blood sometimes, but I don't remember how I felt about it. It's like watching a movie or a play and then remembering only bits and pieces of it later. I thought maybe it really was memories of a movie. Stupid, huh?"

For a second, Yohji's old familiar grin pasted itself across his face, then he thrust his fingers through his short, fair hair and fisted them, grimacing, and letting his breath out in a rush.

"You hated it." Aya told him, not wanting to see the pain in Yohji's eyes again. "That's why you wanted to leave. It gets to be too much after a while."

It was getting to be too much for Aya too, but he stopped himself from sharing that with his friend. There was no sense in imposing his personal hell on Yohji. He'd taken enough away from the man tonight as it was.

A knock sounded at the door.

Aya noticed with a cynical amusement that Yohji unconsciously took on a fighting stance, hips at an angle to the door, hands pulled halfway down between his shoulders and thighs. He may have forgotten being an assassin, but his body hadn't.

Then Yohji relaxed and walked to the door, pulling it open to let in a shorthaired Japanese woman carrying a large handbag, and a pretty, slim one with a ponytail. By the way her eyes lit up when she saw Yohji, Aya knew the thinner one had to be Asuka.

The other woman left them to their greetings and marched over to Aya. Her eyes lit too, with recognition as she pointed an accusing finger at him.

"You're my knife wound operation. What are you doing out of the hospital?"

Aya sighed. It was going to be a long night.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Reviewer Responses:**

Anendee – Hope chapter two lives up to your expectations. You watch anime before 8:00 A.M.! Holy cow, you must get up early! I'm in awe!

Evalita – I hated the ending too. Killing off Aya was evil! I'm glad you liked my version.

MikaSamu – I'm glad you liked the beginning!

Bewsbud – Sorry for the spelling error (see A/N above). I know Aya's eyes are purple (and what a lovely violet hue they are too. Sighs dreamily.), but since no one in real life actually has purple eyes, I decided to go with the next best real life human eye color. It was either that or have Aya wear purple tinted contact lenses, but that just didn't seem like something he'd do. I'm attempting to make the story as plausible as possible, though how plausible a story about a modern day assassin using a katana and striding dramatically through the mean streets in a billowing trench coat can be is a matter of debate! Anyhow, I hope my slip ups didn't mess up the story for you too badly. I appreciate the heads up!

Heta Noita – Chibi eyes? Oh no! Not the dreaded chibi eyes! How can I resist? I'll try to update once a week from now on. I'm glad you liked Gretchen, since she'll be in the next chapter as well.

Elven-girl10 – I know what you mean about not liking what happened to Aya. Poor guy! Why him? Of all the characters they had to pick on, why the one that uses his money to save orphans, and has a sister who'd be devastated by his loss? That was just cruel!

Nekotsuki – Redheads with swords and redemption issues rule the world! (or they would if I were in charge of it!) Don't worry about emailing me back, sometimes I cringe when I open my email account and see the masses of unanswered email waiting for me, so I can't really fault you for avoiding yours. Besides, reviews count as communication too, and I always love getting reviews from you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any Weiss Kruez characters.

CHAPTER THREE

Gretchen came back to her apartment to find her bed had become an examining table. A serious-faced female Japanese doctor was bent over Aya, working on him. Gretchen swallowed and tried not to look as she entered through the doorway carrying grocery bags.

"Let me help with those," said the pleasant fair-haired man from the hospital, getting up from where he was sitting with a really pretty Japanese lady who smiled politely at her as she stood to bow.

Gretchen blinked, bemused and not sure if she should bow back.

Taking advantage of her momentary confusion, the man, Yohji, took the bags from her and put them over on the kitchen counter.

"Uh, thanks, Yohji!" she called after him, and smiled back at the Japanese lady who cocked her head inquiringly and said something in Japanese to Yohji.

Oh right, hadn't Yohji said in the car that he was calling his wife? Those two must be married. Gretchen sighed happily as she watched Yohji come back over to the woman and sit down on the sofa, drawing her next to him. They looked so sweet together.

"I'm done."

Gretchen looked over at the other Japanese woman, the doctor, who was putting some instruments and blood soaked gauze in her bag. Aya was lying quiet and white-faced on the bed.

Yohji stood up and began thanking the woman.

"It's my job. A job that would have been much easier at the hospital."

She directed the last comment to Aya, whose only indication that he'd heard was a slight upturn to his lips.

Gretchen felt relieved. If Aya could smile then he'd be all right.

"I'm going home," the doctor said abruptly.

There was a flurry of Japanese from the other lady and Yohji. Gretchen thought of her two years of Spanish in high school and sighed. She could barely remember a thing. Was everyone bilingual but her?

The doctor seemed to be agreeing to something, then she moved toward the door.

"Let me walk you out!" Gretchen called out. This may have been the weirdest night of her life, but she wasn't about to forget her manners. Ignoring the woman's protests, she went out the door with her, grabbing her keys so she could let herself back in.

They walked down the steps together. Now that they were alone, Gretchen was reaching for something to say.

"So you're a doctor?"

The other woman raised her eyebrows, but answered. "Yes."

"Do you like it?"

"Some days more than others," she answered with a dark humor.

Encouraged, Gretchen plunged on, even though she knew what she was about to say would sound rude. "Look, you won't tell anyone where Aya is, will you? There was a guy with a gun at the hospital and he might come here and try to get him."

"And if that happens, exactly what will you do?"

Gretchen took her eyes off the ill-lit steps to find the doctor looking at her sharply.

"Me? Uh, I don't know. I just hope he won't come by."

The doctor sighed. "You really don't know anything about this guy, do you?"

"That's not true." Gretchen bristled. "I know he goes to church and gives money to the orphan fund because I saw him give a package to Sister Mary after services and later I went by her office and she was counting money to pay bills with."

"Orphan loving philanthropists don't usually end up with knife wounds," the doctor said baldly. "What else do you know about him? Why are you helping him?"

"Why are you?"

Tired of being on the defensive, Gretchen decided to go on the offensive. If she didn't, she'd have to answer the question and saying, 'I'm helping him because I thought he was the most handsome man I ever saw and whenever he's in church I get so tied up in knots inside that I can't remember the sermon afterwards' would make her sound like a complete idiot.

"I'm only helping him as a favor to Asuka."

"Asuka? You mean Yohji's wife?"

"Yohji?" The doctor paused on the step then kept going. "Is that his real name then? He has amnesia. Anyway, Asuka saved my life once, so I owe her. Aya's secret is safe with me. If any gun toting criminals knock on your door, it won't be because they learned anything from me."

"Saved your life?" They were at the bottom of the last flight of stairs, but Gretchen couldn't bear to let the doctor go without explaining herself.

The lady sighed.

"I was studying for my m-cats, the entrance exams for medical school. It was our last year of college, and I started taking uppers to stay awake so I could study. Asuka found them and flushed them all down the toilet one day. The next morning I found out that the guy I'd bought them from had spiked them. Another med student I knew who bought from him died. Since then I've owed her my life."

Gretchen stared, slack jawed.

The doctor laughed at Gretchen's expression, then sobered. "Everyone has secrets, hidden things from their past that haunt them. That's one of mine."

"Not me," Gretchen said dully, still in shock over the doctor's revelation. "My life's been really boring."

Then she blushed, realizing that her statement was no longer true. Upstairs in her apartment was a man with a knife wound in his gut and a murderer after him. She shivered, and brought her hands up to rub her arms, cold all of a sudden.

The doctor's eyes took on a motherly look of concern. "If you need anything, or if you have any questions, call me."

She hunted around in her bag, pulled out a business card, and wrote a phone number on it.

"This is my cell phone," she said, handing the card to Gretchen. "Call me. Especially if he refuses to take his medication." An alarming glint entered her eye. "I'll have a few choice words to say to him if necessary."

Then she nodded briskly, pulled open the building's main door, and disappeared into the snow.

o-o-o

Yohji and Asuka stood in silence by the door of the hotel room, her suitcase on the floor. It stood between them like a wall.

It was a week later, the end of their stay in New York. They were supposed to be going home together. Asuka was going, but Yohji…

"You will come back, won't you?" Asuka was fighting tears.

Yohji saw it, and hated the fact that he was the cause.

He nodded. "Of course I will. If you still want me."

He'd told her everything he knew from Aya, that he was an assassin, that he'd killed – not for money or for personal motives, but he'd killed just the same. She'd been shocked, and was quiet for a long time after that. He wished he could take back the words, the knowledge that had hurt her, but he owed her the truth. To shield her from it because it was unpleasant would be to tell her that he didn't trust her, that he didn't think her able to bear it. To treat her like a child, rather than a wife was an insult to her, and she'd have known it. She knew him so well, the him that he was now. Could she accept the person he'd once been?

If she weren't able to, then he'd have to let her go. The thought of that eventuality nearly ripped his heart out. Life with Asuka was good; life without her was unthinkable. He stilled, and braced himself for the blow.

Asuka's shoulders heaved as she bit back a sob. "Of course I want you. I don't care about your past. I never did."

She ran to him, shoving the suitcase out of her way, and fell into his arms. "I don't care who you were. I know who you are now. I love you." Her eyes, bright with unshed tears, softened. "I love you," she said again.

"Asuka," her name escaped from him in a breath as he bent his head to kiss her joyously.

After a highly satisfactory interval, Yohji moved away, and bent to pick up his wife's fallen suitcase. Asuka had dropped her purse while they were kissing, so she reached down to grab it from the floor and they found themselves nose to nose.

Asuka grinned, and Yohji couldn't help smiling back.

They rose and stared at each other, the tension gone.

"I'll be home as soon as I've helped Aya," he promised.

Asuka nodded. "I understand. If Hitomi was in trouble, I'd want to stay and help her too."

She stepped up to him and kissed him lightly on the lips. "I'll be waiting for you at home," she said. Then she took the handle of her suitcase from his grip, opened the door, and left.

Yohji let his hand rest on the door after she'd gone, missing her presence already. Of course Asuka would help Hitomi if Hitomi needed it. Asuka was a good person, loyal and kind. She and Hitomi were friends.

Friends.

Yohji leaned his back against the door and crossed his arms. Why was he doing this? Staying in New York when his heart was in Japan with Asuka? Why risk everything, his marriage, his sanity, and perhaps even his life to help a man he didn't remember?

Yohji thought back to that night in the hospital. When Aya shouted his name, he'd reacted instinctively. The man in the trench coat was neutralized and shoved behind the laundry cart so smoothly that no one in the crowded hallway even noticed. Part of that might have been due to the New Yorkers' busy oblivious nature, but the other part was sheer professionalism.

Aya needed help, and he'd responded. He'd responded as he'd been trained to do.

Until he got to the bottom of this instinct to protect Aya, he couldn't leave. The man's knife wound was a little over a week old, and already he was planning to leave the safety of Gretchen's apartment.

Yohji'd been back to visit the enigmatic redhead several times when Asuka and Hitomi had been off visiting. With Gretchen in the room, Aya hadn't said much. The girl didn't seem to mind Aya's reticence, but it drove Yohji crazy not being able to ask the questions he wanted. Even if Gretchen hadn't been there, he wasn't sure Aya would have answered him. The man was incredibly close-mouthed.

He'd even run errands for Aya, going out and buying a cell phone from a man on a street corner that Aya described to him in detail. Yohji knew without being told that the cell phone was 'hot'. The strangest errand of all had been to an antique weapons dealer. The man was definitely shady, and had complained about Aya's 'special order item' being difficult to make on short notice. The packages Yohji had carried back from the shop were odd shapes, and difficult to juggle, but he'd managed it.

He glanced down at his watch. It was time.

**A/N:** Sorry this chapter was so short! I needed a bridge between the last chapter and the action of the next – which will be longer and much more eventful, I promise!

**Note to reviewers:**

Dane – I'm not real happy with dubs right now either! I keep making mistakes because I watched the dubbed version. I definitely agree with you about Gluhen's ending. Aya dead? Not in my universe!

Anendee – You get to watch anime at your job? I'm so jealous! I'm glad you're liking Dr. Hitomi, she's a lot of fun to write.

Ayabyssinian / Kim – Thanks, and I liked your story too!

Elven-girl10 – Sorry, no Schwarz in this story. I just couldn't figure out how to fit them in, since it's mostly about Aya and Yohji crossing paths again. To answer you question, Yes, there IS an English dubbed version of Gluhen, but I wish now I'd watched the subbed version instead!

Nekotsuki – A STALKER? Eep! That's horrible! Can you find out his/her email address and sign them up for spam? Or even worse, pop-up ads? Of course that might drive them even further around the bend. Pop-up ads are a plague I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, but a stalker…? Definitely! Can you get your email account to block the creep? I think it's do-able, but I don't know how. I'm glad you're liking the X-1999 script. I had a blast pointing out the logical inconsistencies! Hope your stalker falls off the face of the earth, or gets a life and decides to leave you alone!

Heta Noitio – Thanks for the tip about 'moshi moshi' and 'Crashers' (Darn that dubbed version of Gluhen!) Try not to be too upset with Gretchen. She is, after all, a good Catholic girl so of course she wouldn't want Aya to be gay, especially since she's attracted to him – in her own unique, bumbling way. I'm glad Aya isn't coming across as being heartless. He's so stoic and low-key most of the time that it's hard to convey that he's a really caring person inside too.

BakaBokken – Yipes! I'm afraid I am spoiling a lot of the series with my story – though it's more about Gluhen rather than the original Weiss Kreuz series. Sorry about that. Most people end up liking the original series rather than the Gluhen series anyhow, so maybe I haven't done too much damage. I'm just so happy that you think enough of my writing to want to read a story from a series you aren't really familiar with. Aya does bear a few similarities to another redhead we both know who carries a sword and has an 'I'm not worthy of happiness' complex! Thanks for reviewing!


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any Weiss Kruez characters.

CHAPTER FOUR

Gretchen rolled the dough out on the marble board on her kitchenette's tiny counter space. Her aunt had given her the board with its matching marble rolling pin last Christmas, but she'd never thought she'd have much chance to use it. There was no sense in making Christmas cookies for just one person. However, when there were two people, making cookies made sense.

She glanced over to where Aya sat on the sofa bed, now pushed back into its daytime sofa shape. She'd offered to let him sleep on the bed for as long as he liked, but once Aya realized that the sofa pulled out into a bed, he'd insisted on taking it and leaving the real bed to her.

It was silly. He was wounded, he should have the more comfortable bed, but Aya was like that. Gallant, like a knight. Gretchen let her gaze wander over to the bed. It was actually big enough for both of them, she thought idly, then blushed.

Aya didn't think of her that way. She shouldn't think of him that way. She was a good Catholic girl, and he was her guest, nothing more.

Rolling out the dough with more vigor than necessary, she mashed it against the marble board so hard that she tore it, and had to ball it up and start again.

"Do you need any help?" asked Aya.

"Oh no, I'll be fine." Gretchen waved a floury hand at him and smiled.

Aya gave her a small smile in return and went back to pouring over the maps Yohji had brought him a day ago. Yohji also brought him clothing, bought to Aya's specifications. Today he wore black jeans, a white shirt and a dark blue pullover. He somehow managed to make the simple clothes look like something a male model would wear in a fashion magazine.

Gretchen sighed happily. He was so beautiful, and he was staying for another few days. With Yohji's help, she'd been able to talk him out of leaving to go to a hotel. She liked having someone else around to cook for, and it was nice to just sit together quietly instead of being alone in the apartment. When he needed to make phone calls on the cell phone Yohji brought him, he'd go out into the hall. Otherwise he'd stay inside with her.

A knock came at the door. Aya got up to answer it. It was his friend.

"I'm ready." Yohji said, and came inside.

Gretchen halted the rolling pin and watched as Aya grabbed his long, tan trench coat from off the back of the sofa.

"We're going out," he said, and bent to grab up some packages stacked by the door that Yohji had brought by earlier.

Forcing herself to smile, Gretchen wiped her hands against the apron around her waist. "Just be careful, OK?"

Aya told her yesterday he and Yohji would be leaving for a short time. She wanted to tie him to the sofa to keep him inside and safe, but knew that was ridiculous. Aya's wound was healing, and he didn't need to rest all day long anymore. Of course he'd be eager to get out for a short while.

The redhead nodded. "We'll be back in a few hours, Gretchen. You don't have to worry."

She opened her mouth to say that she wasn't worried, but that would be a lie. So she smiled again and said, "OK," and watched them leave.

And immediately thought of everything that could go wrong.

Aya could overdo it and pull out the stitches in his side. They could get lost despite the maps he'd been studying. If they wandered into the wrong part of town, Aya could get mugged again, or that first mugger who tracked him down to the hospital to kill him might show up again.

Or they would just get their Christmas shopping or whatever it was done and Aya would come back to her safe and sound.

Gretchen straightened her shoulders. They'd be back soon and they'd probably be hungry too, so what was she doing wasting her time with 'what-ifs'? Narrowing her eyes at the speculaas dough she'd made using her Dutch grandmother's recipe, she grabbed her rolling pin and attacked. She might not have the traditional cookie molds the recipe required, but she could still make cut-out shapes from her Christmas cookie cutters. Gretchen set to work.

o-o-o

"You don't have to come with me, you know." Aya said in the car that Yohji had rented using a fake ID.

"Yes, I do."

They both knew that he did. Aya might put up a good act in front of the girl, Gretchen, but Yohji knew his wound wasn't healed yet. Aya still needed help, and Yohji needed…

What did he need? What did his presence here prove except that he was allowing a past he couldn't remember to lay claim to him? He could have gone the rest of his life without knowing that he'd been an assassin, and he would have been happy. Now that he knew, things changed. He'd been Aya's team-mate, and when he'd asked him for the truth, Aya had given it to him. He owed him for that. There was this sense, too, hovering in the back of his mind, that he might owe him for other times, times when they'd depended on each other during missions. The memories were there, just beyond reach, locked away somewhere in his brain, and they dribbled out sometimes, but only in bits and pieces.

He hadn't lied to Aya when he said he remembered the faces of some of his victims. They came to him in dreams at times; he couldn't even call them nightmares, for the images were not accompanied by strong emotion. He didn't wake up soaked in sweat with his heart racing.

It was like remembering photographs from a newspaper article. It didn't bother him. The fact that it didn't was what really worried him. What kind of a man had he been? There was only one way to find out.

They drove on in silence.

Yohji pulled in to a side street by a seedy bar. Raucous music spilled from inside. There were lots of cars around. Theirs wouldn't be noticed.

"We're here," he said, unnecessarily. He'd followed Aya's directions to the letter.

Aya reached down to the shorter of the two packages resting against his leg on the floor of the car and handed it to Yohji.

"If you really want to come along, you're going to need this."

Yohji took the package and tore the brown paper wrapping off of it. A metallic disk with a band meant to go around one's wrist was nestled in the paper. It wasn't heavy, but it was solid in his grip. He'd seen something like it before, for it looked familiar.

"This is…?"

"Garroting wire." Aya answered in a clipped voice, tearing the brown paper off his longer package to reveal the hilt and sheath of a Japanese style sword. "It's coiled in the disk and can be extended or retracted by pressing the…"

"I know." Yohji cut him off, staring it at the device in his hand.

"I know," he said again more softly, and he did. He secured the band around his wrist and felt its weight against his skin, solid and familiar. "Let's do this."

Aya nodded and opened the car door.

Their goal was a derelict building a block down. It had once been a factory, and now it was the home of a small time crook looking to make it into the big time. Butler's need for human lab rats was supposed to have been his ticket to that big time. With Butler's death, his main source of income had been cut off, and he'd gone looking for revenge against Aya, as a way of upping his street credibility. Kill the assassin who killed your main man, and you scored points with those who were keeping track in the criminal underworld.

Aya told him that that the crook, Bandini, was not affiliated with the Italian mob, despite his Italian sounding name. He and his men had kidnapped and delivered homeless street people, men, women, and even children to be butchered in the name of science. Now it was payback time.

Bandini obviously deserved to die, but why not have the police handle it? When Yohji asked Aya about it during one of their conversations while Gretchen was out shopping, Aya told him that Bandini was protected by someone in the police department. It was someone very high up who'd made evidence against the man disappear the four times he'd been brought in for questioning. Evidently Bandini had something on a police official.

As they walked down the dirty sidewalk through the blackened slush of melting snow, Yohji wondered again what he was doing here.

All too soon they were at the building.

It was second nature for Yohji to melt against the shadows while Aya kicked in the door, then follow after checking the area to be sure they hadn't been seen entering.

It was dark inside, except where moonlight shone through the dirty, broken windows in the wall behind them, leaving patches of lighter grey on the ground. The ceiling over where they stood was open to the second story, girders like pillars interspersed along the floor to support a grid pattern of other girders above. The back half of the building was solid, two or three stories of rooms and offices rising up from the darkened first floor.

Movement from out of the corner of his eye had Yohji tensing into a ready position, hands in front of his body, ready to move. Next to him, Aya stopped and pulled his katana out from under his coat as three men surrounded them from the front and sides.

They all had guns, and their guns were pointed at Yohji and Aya. One was directly in front of them, one to the left, and one to the right in a classic triangle shape.

'Guns?' thought Yohji incredulously. 'Guns against an antiquated sword and a bit of wire? What chance did they have against guns?'

Then Yohji remembered. Having an unexpected weapon gave one the element of surprise. Guns only worked if their target remained in a clear line of fire. Without commanding his brain to come up with a plan, Yohji found that he already knew of several moves to evade the bullets while taking care of his targets.

Targets? Since when had he stopped thinking of them as people?

"Hey, boss!" One of the men yelled, glancing back over his shoulder into the inky blackness of the building's interior. "We got some intruders."

A muffled curse, then a rectangular blaze of light flared as a door opened and a short olive complexioned man came out wearing khaki pants, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

Another man, smaller and more unkempt looking in baggy jeans and a sweatshirt followed after him, obviously an underling.

"Well, look what we got here." The leather jacketed man sneered, coming up behind the center gunman and staring over the man's shoulder.

"Bandini." Aya said, identifying the leader.

Without having to be told, Yohji knew that was Aya's way of marking the man as his prey. Yohji was to leave Bandini to Aya.

"Looks like your screw-up has come back to haunt you, Ty." Bandini said to the gunman on Yohji's right.

The man growled and took a step forward into a patch of moonlight, tightening his grip on the gun. Yohji saw that it was the man from the hospital, the one he'd punched in the stomach.

"This one's mine," said the man, aiming for Yohji's chest. "I got some unfinished business with him," he blustered.

Yohji felt his mouth quirk. The guy sounded like something from a bad gangster movie. He expected to be scared, but he wasn't. Instead he felt as if every sense was on high alert. This was going to be easy.

Aya leapt into action, using the element of surprise to full advantage. From the flash of metal Yohji knew that Aya's katana was out and already slicing through the gunman standing between him and his prey, Bandini.

Taking that as his sign to move, Yohji pressed the button on the disk as he pointed his wrist at the thug from the hospital. The silver wire shot out with a slight 'snick' as Yohji sprang forward.

The man dropped his gun and instinctively began to claw at the wire circling his neck. Yohji ran past him, pivoted, and yanked. His victim's startled gasp turned into a gurgle as the wire cut through his neck, severing the main artery and vein that brought blood to and from his brain.

By running behind the man, Yohji used his opponent's body as an impromptu shield, counting on the other gunman's reluctance to shoot at his comrade in order to get Yohji.

With a practiced flick of his wrist, Yohji commanded the wire to retract back inside the disk, then immediately sent it shooting out again to latch on to one of the girders above. He knew that as soon as the right hand gunman was down, the left hand one would start shooting.

The man didn't disappoint him. Bullets flew across the room, and would have hit Yohji had he remained standing behind where his first victim fell. But Yohji wasn't there anymore; instead he was flying through the air himself, suspended from the girder by the wire, and careening forward with his feet out in front.

They connected nicely with the gunman's torso, shoving him back against the far wall, the gun dropping out of his nerveless fingers on impact.

Yohji bent his knees and jumped back, away from his winded opponent. Landing with his feet on the floor, he moved right as he retracted his wire from the girder.

The gunman staggered forward and Yohji slipped behind him, releasing just enough wire to loop over the man's head. He pulled it tight, once again using the wire for its intended purpose, as a garrote.

When it was over and the man stopped his twitching, Yohji retracted the wire and turned to find Aya calming flicking blood from off his blade and using a tissue to wipe away the rest of it.

The last three men lay in pools of blood on the floor at his feet. Yohji walked over and took a closer look. Now that his adrenalin rush was wearing off, he had time to think, and to feel.

A sick disgust came over him. Bandini's head was no longer connected to his body. The center gunman had died from a diagonal slash across his chest. He hadn't even got a shot off, so surprised had he been when Aya leapt forward. The last man, the underling who'd followed Bandini out the lighted doorway in back, lay face down, punctured through his back. He'd been trying to flee.

"Is this how it is?" Yohji asked.

Aya looked at him. "We are the hunters of the night. Beasts such as these are who we hunt."

Yohji clenched his fists. "They're people, Aya. Calling them beasts doesn't change that fact. We killed people tonight and…"

He stopped as Aya raised a hand for silence.

Straining his ears, he heard it too, the soft sound of crying. Looking over at Aya, he saw the man's eyes narrowed in concentration.

"It's coming from back there." Aya nodded toward the lighted doorway Bandini had left open. He lowered his hand and set off, katana at his side.

Yohji sighed, and followed.

The crying grew louder as they passed the threshold and entered the room. A round table with cards on it dominated the area. A bowl of pretzels lay in the center of the table, and empty beer cans littered the ground. Cheap folding chairs and a battered sofa next to a small refrigerator completed the furnishings.

Two closed doors set into the far wall gave them two choices.

But the sobbing was coming from behind only one of the doors. Knowing it could be a trap, Yohji took a defensive stance behind Aya, and allowed him to kick open the door, which splintered at the edge, a sign that the lock was breached.

A pint sized opponent hurtled at Aya from the right hand side, Yohji moved left and into the room to give Aya space to maneuver his sword, but also to guard against any further threats coming their way.

As he moved he got a better look at the small body coming at them, metal object in hand.

"Aya, no!" he managed to cry out.

The red head was already gearing back his reaction. Dropping the sword, he hit with his elbow instead of the blade, and sent the small boy flying in one piece instead of two. The kid hit the ground with a grunt and dropped what looked like a long nail or spike.

The kid couldn't have been more than nine or ten years old. He was cursing though, not crying.

Yohji's eyes, adjusted to the darkened room, took in the sight. The room was set up as a dormitory. Cheap, plain beds lined both walls, five on each side, their footboards about three feet across from each other, creating a center aisle. On the bed furthest away sat three little girls, the tallest one with her arms around the shoulders of two smaller ones. The smallest of all was the one crying.

From the light streaming through the doorway behind him, Yohji saw that the three girls were dressed in what looked like their underwear, and not much else. The boy writhing on the floor was dressed in shorts and a dirty t-shirt.

Letting Aya handle the boy, Yohji relaxed his stance so he'd look as non-frightening as possible, and walked over to them.

The oldest girl immediately tightened her grip on the other two girls' shoulders. "You can't have them," she told him fiercely. "I'll go again, but you can't have them."

Go again? What was the girl talking about? Then it clicked. The underwear, the locked door, the beds. Child prostitution.

The horror of it caused bile to rise up in Yohji's throat. It must have shown on his face because the girl turned her head away and buried her face in the smaller child's hair.

"I'm not…I wouldn't…" Yohji took a deep breath and started again. "I'm Yohji. What's your name?"

The girl peeped up at him with big hazel eyes from beneath bangs that needed trimming. She stared at him for quite a while before she answered. "I'm Sara. This is Rachel and Hannah." Two other pairs of hazel eyes, one filled with tears, regarded him warily.

"I see." Yohji smiled reassuringly, but his smile just seemed to make them more tense, so he let it drop. "Where are your mom and dad?"

"Daddy died," said the middle child. Hannah, wasn't that her name? "He died and we had to go live in a motel."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Yohji said automatically. "And your mom?"

"She couldn't stop them." Sara turned her hazel eyes inward on a painful memory. "They came into our room and they hit her and they took us. She tried to stop them, but she couldn't."

The youngest girl, Rachel, began to wail again, and Sara took her arm from around Hannah so that she could cradle her youngest sister in both. Hannah reached out for her sister as well, and Yohji left them huddled together. He knew if he tried to pat them on the shoulder or touch them in any way, it would only make it worse.

Drifting back to where Aya had the boy seated on a bed, holding his stomach where Aya's elbow had connected. Coming closer, he listened in on their conversation.

"How did you end up here?" Aya was asking.

"They came to where Ed and I were staying with a bunch of other kids."

"Ed?" asked Yohji, conscious that he'd missed part of the boy's story.

"He's my brother," the kid said, his sharp eyes taking Yohji in. "We ran away together."

"What happened then?" Aya asked calmly, not bothering to acknowledge Yohji's presence.

"I was asleep when they came in. All the other kids ran away, but they caught me. Ed was out getting food or something." The boy shrugged. He was a street kid; he didn't really have to spell out what his brother was doing to survive. Yohji felt sick all over again.

"He came back when they were dragging me to the car. He tried to fight them, but they hit him on the head with a gun. He fell down and didn't get up. I think he's dead." The boy's voice was matter of fact, but his eyes betrayed his grief.

"I'm going to kill them. I'm going to kill them all," he bowed his head and muttered in a voice chillingly adult for someone his age.

Yohji and Aya exchanged a look. Revenge? Justice? How could they blame the kid for wanting to do what they'd just done? Bandini's crime was so horrific, it beggared the imagination. He thought back to the little girls huddled behind him. He had to know.

"Those men, did they…?"

The kid's head shot up, and an angry look appeared in his eye. "Not me. Ed always said I should fight if anyone tried anything. He always protected me. Besides, I just got here yesterday."

"And the others?" Yohji nodded back at Sara, Rachel, and Hannah.

The kid smirked, with a male child's contempt for mere girls. "They're stupid. All the little ones ever do is cry, and Sara won't tell them what's going to happen. They took her out the first night I came here, but they brought her back. She kept screaming at them. Like that's gonna help." His eyes grew cold, obviously thinking about what would help.

It was like watching the last light of a sunset dying away as the darkness of night took over.

Yohji shuddered. Kids shouldn't have that look. No one should. This life wasn't his anymore. He'd killed tonight, and it was justified. Bandini and his men would no longer prey on innocent children, but he would no longer prey on animals like them.

He was going back to Asuka. He would have children with her and protect them to the death if he had to, but he wouldn't go cruising the cesspits and back alleys of the world to hunt down scum. He'd built a life with her, promised to love and honor her. If he'd made any promises in the life he had before, he didn't remember them. As soon as the children were safe and Aya was back at Gretchen's apartment, he'd be leaving.

He was going back to Asuka, and to sanity.

The night would belong once again to the hunters, but he would not be a part of it anymore. He'd paid his debt to Aya, and now he was going home.

TO BE CONTINUED (EPILOGUE CHAPTER IS ON ITS WAY)

**Note to Reviewers:**

Anendee – I'm glad you're liking Hitomi and Gretchen. I wish I was all efficient and competent like Hitomi, but I'm afraid I'm more of a Gretchen – including the tendency to trip over my own words and embarrass myself! Like you, I wasn't really a huge fan of Yohji's either until he lost his memory in Gluhen and forgot to be such a womanizing jerk! I thought the way they portrayed him with Asuka was really sweet, because it showed that he could have been a nice, normal, monogamous guy if life hadn't thrown him a few curve balls. I like Yohji the amnesiac far better than the Yohji who chased everything in a skirt between the ages of 18 – 30! Bad Yohji! Down boy! So anyhow, I'm keeping him the way I prefer him.

Kim – Thanks for the review! As for Aya and Gretchen…stay tuned, you'll find out in the epilogue.

Elven-girl10 – No chance of Yohji going back to his womanizing ways! He's grown up and is well past the 'sewing his wild oats' stage. Even in Gluhen, the accident gave him a second chance at monogamous happiness. I've just built on that. I'd rather eat glass than screw that up for him!

Thanks again to everyone who reviewed chapter two (Dane, Nekotsuki, Heta Noitio, etc.)


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kreuz or Gluhen.

CHAPTER FIVE: EPILOGUE

In the end, Aya managed to get hold of Sister Mary by phone and secure a place for the boy, Robert, and the three sisters in the orphanage. They dressed the girls in Yohji's grey sweater, his matching grey shirt, and Aya's blue sweater, then shepherded them to the car and drove to the church where Sister Mary was waiting for them.

In the bustle of getting the children situated, the nun found a few minutes to talk to him.

"I hope this wasn't too much of an inconvenience, Sister."

"Children are never an inconvenience," she answered serenely, then fixed him with those wise eyes of hers that saw too much. "Are you well?"

The wound in his gut was trickling blood again, but it was nothing compared to the weariness of his soul. It oozed out of his eyes, and he was too tired to mask it.

"I'll be fine," he lied to her.

They both knew it was a lie, but she nodded. "You know, there's a job opening up in September. We're starting a school to go with our day-care center. The orphanage is big enough to need one now, and many Catholic families would prefer to send their children to a safer place than public schools. The position wouldn't pay much, but…"

"Are you offering me a job?" Aya raised an eyebrow. He'd taught before. It was one of the few undercover positions he'd actually enjoyed for its own sake. "I don't have the proper credentials." Omi had provided him with forged ones for his position at Kowa Academy, but they were in Japanese.

"You're an intelligent man, and you love children. What other credentials could you possibly need? And besides, I'd be right there overseeing." Sister Mary countered. She stared at him calmly for a moment, then her eyes softened and her voice lowered.

"Caring for children has a very healing affect on people. No matter what you've done," the nun gave a pointed look to the side he was favoring, the one with the re-opened wound. "I know that your heart is redeemable. There is nothing that God cannot forgive. Redemption is what He offers, and once this gift is accepted, everything changes. Children know this instinctively. They don't care about what you've done; they only care about what you do now. Please think about it," she commanded, and glided away to discuss the placement of the children with a staff member.

The girl's mother would be found, and if she was still alive she'd be eligible for a place in the church's women's shelter. The shelter also had a pro-bono counselor for Sara, who'd need it after her ordeal. Robert would join the orphanage where he'd be safe from predators. He'd seemed happy, and a little relieved when Aya told him that Bandini and his men were dead. It gave Aya hope for the boy. Without a target to fixate on, perhaps the kid's desire for revenge would fade away to die a natural death. Perhaps he'd grow up to have a normal life, like the one Yohji had built for himself.

Yohji.

Aya never wanted to drag him back into this. He wouldn't have asked his former teammate along if he hadn't seen one of Bandini's men on the sidewalk outside of Gretchen's apartment yesterday.

Yohji saw the way Aya's shirt stuck to him when he took off his blue sweater to give to Sara to wear. It was why Yohji was still with him, helping him up the stairs to Gretchen's apartment.

She wasn't going to be happy when she saw that he'd popped a few stitches.

"I'm sorry," he said, as they rested on the first floor landing.

Yohji propped Aya up against the wall and stepped back. "For what?"

"For getting you into this."

A smile flashed across Yohji's face, the familiar devil-may-care expression that Aya had seen on it so many times before. For a minute, he thought the old Yohji was back, but then the smile faded.

"You didn't get me into anything. I volunteered, remember?"

Aya nodded, and Yohji went on.

"I had to know what my old life was like if I was going to choose between them. Maybe I'll never remember anything more than bits and pieces. I needed to do this. I needed to know what it felt like being Weiss."

"And now that you know?"

Yohji smiled again, blindingly, a smile of pure happiness that had Aya catch his breath in amazement.

"I know that my place is with Asuka. I choose my new life. I'm sorry, Aya. I won't be going back to Weiss."

Aya closed his eyes, and nodded. It was what he'd expected.

Yohji slipped his shoulder under Aya's and helped him up the rest of the stairs. As they got to Gretchen's door, it opened.

There she stood, with a smudge of flour on her nose and the smell of fresh baked cookies wafting out of the apartment. Her phone was in the crook of her neck and mitten-like potholders covered her hands.

"Yes, they just came in, Mr. Omi. Yes, my phone actually does have a speakerphone button. Oh no, it's no trouble at all. I'm sure it must be very important business for you to be calling all the way from Japan. I'll just go and borrow some coffee from my downstairs neighbor. I'm almost out anyway. OK, hold on."

She took the phone carefully in her be-mittened hand and gave it to Yohji as she whirled away and grabbed a plate of cookies from off the tiny kitchenette table, shedding the oven mitts as she went.

Flashing them both a smile, she brushed past them to the door.

Aya put his arm across the doorway and stopped her, her frenetic good cheer not fooling him. "I'm sorry we're kicking you out of your apartment again," he said, making sure that his trench coat hid the bloodstain on his shirt.

"It's OK. I was, um, going to take a plate of cookies to Mrs. Andiamo – she lives here, er, I mean lives downstairs anyway."

Gretchen always became tongue tied when embarrassed. She knew Aya and Yohji weren't gay, that left… of course. What would be the only other reason why one man would have to help another home? She thought he was drunk.

He leaned forward, letting her smell the lack of alcohol on his breath, and kissed her cheek.

"I promise I'll make it up to you," he said, and then stepped aside to let her pass.

"Oh, right. OK," she said dazedly and nearly walked into the wall, righted herself, and made it out the doorway safely.

Meanwhile Yohji had found the speakerphone button on the phone and pressed it. Aya sank down on the sofa next to him.

"Aya? Yohji? Are you there?" came Omi's voice from the phone.

Yohji glanced questioningly at Aya, who answered for the both of them. "We're here, Omi."

"Yohji?" Omi's voice sounded almost wistful.

"I'm here." Yohji answered reluctantly.

"He still doesn't remember." Aya told Omi.

"Ah. Then I guess it would be useless to ask you if you wanted to return to Weiss, wouldn't it, Yohji?" Omi asked, and just like that, the tension Aya'd felt in his former teammate since the phone call began, was gone.

"Yes," answered Yohji warmly. "It would."

"And what about you, Aya?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you still want to return to Weiss?"

Aya froze. Did he want to return? He remembered so clearly just wanting to give up when he was bleeding by the mailbox, knifed by a child. Robert, the boy he'd rescued today, could easily have become a child like that – a pint sized killer with dead eyes and no remorse. The guilty or the innocent, revenge or justice, it was like flipping a coin and waiting to see which side ended upright.

"No," he answered slowly. "I don't. I've been offered a teaching job. I think I'm going to take it."

He liked children, liked the thought of influencing their development, of making a difference. If he could help children like Robert to make the right decisions, if he could keep them from becoming hardened killers like him, then maybe there was hope for the world after all.

There was a silence.

"Then I guess it's official. The old Weiss Kreuz team is disbanded."

Fear shot through Aya. "What about Ken?" He'd left Ken at the airport, hurting but unable to talk about it. Heartsick himself, with a flight about to leave, Aya had simply walked away. He regretted it now.

"Oh! Ken is fine. He spent some time in jail, his choice, but now he's got a job as assistant coach to a soccer team."

Aya breathed a sigh of relief. "And you, Omi?"

A memory came to Aya of a day in a clearing where they'd stopped the flower shop van, just to watch the clouds passing over a meadow.

"Do you still want to just get in a van and travel around selling flowers?" he asked.

"Ah." A world of regret was in that syllable, and Aya knew Omi remembered that day as well.

"Yellow." Yohji said unexpectedly.

Aya looked over and saw the fair-haired man's eyes light up.

"The meadow had yellow flowers, and Omi said that we should pick them and load them in the van and just drive around selling them. I'm right, aren't I?" he asked Aya.

Aya nodded.

Yohji laughed softly. "That's the longest memory I've had yet."

"Then I'm glad it's a good one," came Omi's voice from the phone. "There were some good memories, you know."

He lost his wistful tone and his voice became brisk as he went on. "I'm sorry, Aya. I can't pick up and just leave. I have a duty to fulfill. As long as the remains of Esset are out there, my place is here, fighting them. Besides, I promised a friend of ours I'd help him find a girl."

"A girl?" Yohji burst out incredulously.

Aya allowed himself a small smile. Trust the mention of a female to get Yohji's attention.

Omi laughed. "I promised Nagi that in exchange for joining our side, I'd help him find Tot."

Aya flashed back to a moonlit forest, sneaking through it and coming upon the very young couple, Nagi – a member of Weiss's arch rival group, Schwarz, and Tot – the pink haired junior member of Schreient. He'd accidentally witnessed their first, awkward kiss.

They were his enemies at the time, but something stayed his hand from striking them. Now he was glad he'd spared them, for without Nagi's help in the last battle against Esset, they probably wouldn't have made it out alive. All of the members of the Schreient group's bodies had been found after a previous battle, all except Tot's.

"I wish you success." Aya told Omi.

"Hey, who's Nagi?" asked Yohji interestedly.

Aya looked over at him. "It's a long story. Maybe I'll tell you one day." He turned back to the phone. "Omi, promise me something."

"If I can," came Omi's voice.

"Once Esset is finished, and you've found Tot, promise me that you'll do it. That you'll take a van and just travel to places you've never been." Aya's side was aching. He wanted to get to bed, but this was important, no matter how stupid it sounded.

At first he thought Omi wouldn't answer, but then…

"Only if everyone else comes too."

Aya looked over at Yohji, a man who didn't remember anything about the team except a conversation in a meadow years ago.

"Count me in," he said lightly.

Aya flashed a look of gratitude at his former teammate. "And me."

"Then it's a promise."

o-o-o

Ten years later, a caravan of motor homes was parked in a ring around a campfire in a broad green meadow.

Children ran around screaming with the joy of being out of doors and unconfined. Wives watched over them indulgently, knowing that the month long vacation in the meadow would end soon, and the kids would be glued to desks in the schoolroom before long.

Aya, Omi, Yohji, and Ken sat on their campstools and watched the clouds pass overhead, leaving patches of shadow and light at play on the grass below. The wives had vetoed the idea of traveling around selling flowers one summer, but had been surprisingly agreeable to camping out. It was an enchanted time of watching their offspring interacting, seeing their parents' qualities coming out in odd ways as they laughed and played together, blonde, brunette, and redheaded children enjoying each others' company in the effortless way children had. It was endlessly fascinating to watch them.

Though sometimes it was nice to get away from the madcap scramble below, to climb the ridge above the campsite where they'd parked the van so many years before, to sit on their campstools and enjoy a drink together before dinner.

"So Esset's finally done for, eh Omi?" asked Ken with a grin, breaking the companionable silence.

The younger man smiled. "The last branch was terminated six months ago."

"That is good." Aya approved.

"Congratulations," said Yohji lightly.

"You still don't remember anything, do you?" asked Ken, eyes alight with curiosity and a slight envy.

"Nope." Yohji took a drink from his glass, and used it to gesture to the caravan below. "Just this. Just being here and talking about the trip we were going to make someday. Everything else is just bits and pieces, like watching a movie about someone else's life." He wrenched his gaze away from the scene below and looked at Ken, to see how he'd take it.

"That's great, man," said Ken, and meant it.

"I think, of all the memories to have left, that one is the best," offered Omi. "Not the battles, and the fighting, but just the four of us, together."

They were silent a moment. Then Aya lifted his glass. "To Weiss Kreuz," he toasted, and one by one the rest of them raised their glasses.

It was the end of an age, an end of fighting, and strife, but the beginning of something new. Their lives would be filled with the fruits of their labors now – real jobs, wives, children, and friendships that wouldn't fade with the passage of time and distance. They'd never thought that they'd survive or that they'd deserved happiness, yet it had happened for each of them.

The finished their drinks and made their way back to their families and their lives.

THE END

**A/N:** Well, that's it. Happy endings all around. After what Weiss Kreuz went through I figured they deserved one! Hope you all enjoyed it!

Notes to Reviewers:

MikaSamu – Hope you don't mind that Yohji doesn't fully regain his memories. I figured he'd be happier without them. As for 'Side B' – I didn't even know the manga continued past the Gluhen anime! If I did, I wouldn't have been so angry at the Gluhen ending!

Carrothien – Sorry nothing much happened in the epilogue, though I did include the other Weiss Kreuz characters at the very end.

Elvengirl10 – Thanks for your kind words! I wanted Yohji's decision to quit Weiss to be a positive thing, a reasoned decision based on a true knowledge of exactly what he was giving up. I've never seen Yohji as a coward, but losing his memory in Gluhen changed him for the better and gave him a chance at a normal life. And he doesn't just have himself to think of anymore, he's got Asuka's happiness to consider as well. I wanted him to weigh his options and responsibilities and choose her, and he did. Hope you liked the ending!

Wolfeyes – Glad to know the manga creators had their heads screwed on straight (unlike the Gluhen creators!) Aya lived on in the manga? I'm a happy camper now! Hugs to Wolfeyes!

BakaBokken – Thanks! You're so sweet! I've never thought of my writing as 'addicting' before! I love your stories too – any chance of an update soon? I'm dying to know what happens next in "Desperation" – particularly since I've been watching the FMP Fumoffo series.

Ayabyssinian – Life is indeed random, and there's lots of senseless violence like Aya getting stabbed at the end of Gluhen. Yet isn't that why we write fiction? To 'fix' things the way we want them to be? We may not be able to control what's happening in life, but we can control what happens in our stories. In fanfiction, as long as we keep characters IN character we can give them the happy endings they deserve, which is what I tried to do in this story. I'm glad you think I did an OK job with Aya. That means a lot coming from a WK expert (and after watching WK 15 times and Gluhen 5, you definitely qualify!). By the way, thanks for the recommendation, I thought 'Haunted' was really cute!

Shadoewhunter – Well there was a tiny bit more interaction between Yohji and the rest of his team-mates this time as you requested, but since the story was ending there wasn't much scope for adding any more. Hope you liked the epilogue anyway.


End file.
